


sunshine curls on the pillow

by dami_an



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, How Do I Tag, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:41:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26480584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dami_an/pseuds/dami_an
Summary: "And yer his boyfriend."That has Atsumu startled. He blinks at his twin. Once. Twice. Another, until bewilderment seeps into Osamu's expression, face twisting, and before he can say anything, Osamu beats him into it."Yer not?"or atsumu loves shouyou's hair & is an idiot
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 10
Kudos: 407





	sunshine curls on the pillow

**Author's Note:**

> because that long hair hinata sports in his third year? the one that we only had a brief glance? when he graduated? yes, yes, that one.
> 
> that one almost killed me
> 
> unbeta'ed. we die like men

Atsumu wonders how it turns that way; Shouyou's hair, that is.

Messy, fanning out in all directions, bright orange it almost looks like the sun, and yet soft beneath his palm when Atsumu runs his fingers through Shouyou's hair. The tip of the hair strands glows in the light. They frame Shouyou's face like a mane.

Wait, a mane—

Ah, right, Atsumu realizes. He removes his hand from Shouyou's hair and shouts over the booming music in the club, "Shouyou-kun, your hair is getting longer."

"Is it?" Shouyou shouts back. He puts down his beer on the round table and pulls some strands between his two fingers. Past down his brow. He squints. "Yeah."

"Gonna cut it?"

"Maybe yeah, maybe no. We'll see." Shouyou reclines on the cushioned chair. Licks his lips. Then waves at Barnes and his woman on the dance floor.

Atsumu raises his beer at Thomas. "Need a hand?"

The smirk blooms on Shouyou's face is dangerously cute. The neon light reflects nothing in Shouyou's dark eyes. His legs stretch out under the table, nudging Atsumu's left foot. Shouyou takes a swig of his beer.

"For free?"

Hah. As if. "I demand a handsome reward. Some deposit too, as a guarantee."

"Yeah?" Shouyou raises a brow.

"Yea."

...

Shouyou's mouth on his cock is perfectly warm. Atsumu throws his head back against the headboard, digging his heels into the bed as Shouyou takes him deeper. His fingers bury in Shouyou's hair, fisting it; something to ground him on while pleasure builds up inside of him.

Fuck, that mouth, fuck, fuck, fuck—oh yeah, his hair is indeed soft.

One particular sucking has Atsumu almost coming, and he yanks Shouyou off his cock, just to push him onto his back. The bed creaks beneath them. A small laugh escapes Shouyou, and fuck, it's beyond Atsumu how Shouyou manages to pull that cute expression off when his lips are swollen from his biting kisses.

"Eager much, Atsumu-san?"

"Hush," Atsumu mutters against Shouyou's racing pulse. He can feel Shouyou's hard-on against his thigh. Good. "I'm taking my deposit now."

Shouyou laughs again. "Sure, sure."

...

One late evening after the practice, Atsumu stumbles across a meat bun promotion on a convenient store's window. Hands in his pockets, he stares at it, past his reflection. Then fishes his phone out.

The call is picked up after two dials. "Atsumu-san?"

"You around, Shouyou-kun? They got this meat bun promotion here. Buy two free one."

"OHHHH!!! Here where?!" Shouyou asks, eager.

Atsumu looks around, eyes squinting. Down the street, he spots a bus stop. "You know the one close to the bus stop? 401, just right by the basketball court?"

"Ohhh, the one that sells the best Gori-kun ice-cream?"

Pretty sure Gori-kun tastes the same regardless of the store location, but okay, Atsumu is willing to indulge Shouyou. He looks up at the black skies. No way he can see stars here; the city is too bright.

"Yeah, that one."

"Okay, gimme ten minutes. I'm going to sprint to your place."

Oh, shit. The thought of Shouyou's place being in the opposite direction slipped him, and now it doesn't sit well with him. Can't have Shouyou overexerted himself after that gruelling practice. Atsumu tries to backpedal, "Hey, hey, you don't have to come now. We can get meat buns another time."

"But it's meat bun!!!"

"Shouyou-kun—"

"Also, I ran out of shampoo."

Atsumu blinks. Oh. Okay.

...

"Shit," Atsumu curses aloud.

Shouyou emerges into the kitchen, only wrapped in a towel around the waist. He takes a bottle from the fridge. "What is it?"

Atsumu slams the drawer shut. "I lost my scissors."

"Well, okay. Buy new ones," Shouyou says around the bottle mouth. Drinks it down until it's half-empty and returns the bottle back to its spot. He walks past Atsumu, stops halfway and says, "Save water, save the Earth?"

Well, why the fuck not.

Atsumu joins Shouyou in the shower not long after.

...

He sends a text to his twin one free afternoon.

'My scissors. Where?'

It's after Atsumu pawing through the boxes stored in the kitchen cabinet when he receives a reply, which is almost two hours later since the text. Stupid 'Samu. Atsumu emerges to take his phone on the top counter and slides back down on the floor, tired.

_'What.'_

'My scissors, ya shit. Can't find 'em anywhere.'

_'Threw 'em away.'_

Anger erupts inside of Atsumu. He types back furiously.

'WTF'

'Ya shit!!!'

'I need 'em, ya ass!!!'

'Gimme back my precious scissors!!!'

_'Broken. Why the fuck did you keep 'em lying around on the floor?'_

That has Atsumu paused. Recalls Osamu cursing up a storm when he found the broken scissors in the bathroom. Very much like 'fucking hell, 'Tsumu, I can't even cut a thread with these!!!' which he ignored because, well, ignorant is bliss.

...okay, that was dumb.

Another text comes in, _'I take it ya just remembered it. Dumbass.'_

_'Why do ya need 'em? Ya always go to some fancy saloon if ya need some trimmin'.'_

_'Why the trouble?'_

Shouyou-kun flits past in his mind; the long hair, the gleaming eyes, the fluttering eyelashes, the suggestive smile around Atsumu's cock—

Okay, he needs to stop. Not in front of Osamu. Well, Osamu isn't physically around, but the texts make Atsumu self-conscious. It's as though Osamu's there judging him, with squinting eyes and all.

Urgh.

...

They should be doing some shopping, like a new pair of scissors and others. (No, Atsumu doesn't remember the rest of the list. It might and might not have something to do with the barbecue his team is hosting this weekend, but eh).

But they aren't at the supermarket—no, they are not. Instead, they are in bed, too busy fucking each other's brains out. Shouyou is deliciously tight around his cock, clenching and unclenching as Atsumu fucks him from behind.

The arch of his back, the way sweat slips down the column of his spine, the flush creeping up to his neck, his loud moans of 'Ah, ah, ah!', even his heavy cock hanging between his legs, Atsumu savours them.

One particular hard thrust has Shouyou throwing his head back—that column of throat, beautiful—and Atsumu catches Shouyou's chin, digging his fingers into Shouyou's skin.

"Fuck—" Shouyou clenches the sheets when Atsumu hits that wonderful spot again. Shouyou glances over his shoulder, gritting his teeth, though, his eyes are ablaze with want, "I expect—fuck, ah—I expect a scalp massage, complete with hair wash, just for this."

Atsumu smirks. "I'll pitch in keratin hair treatment for ya," and slips two fingers into Shouyou's mouth, while the other hand takes a hold of Shouyou's cock before Shouyou can choke out a reply.

Close, Atsumu moves his hand up and down Shouyou's cock, not in tandem with his thrusts. He feels the sucking on his fingers, and fuck, fuck, that's so hot, he's losing it, he can't—

Shouyou comes in his fist, with a soundless howl. Atsumu bites his bottom lip, almost overwhelmed by the spasming muscles around his cock. He lets Shouyou ride out his high before pulling out. Without his support, Shouyou falls back onto the bed.

The slight sheen of sweat on Shouyou's tanned skin, the heaving chest, the gaping hole, slick with lube, the handprints on Shouyou's hips, the haze of pleasure in Shouyou's eyes, even the strands of orange hair matted on the nape of his neck, wow, that makes arousal burn hot in Atsumu's gut, and Atsumu fists his cock, jerking it, up and down, fast, faster even—

"Come for me," Shouyou says.

He does just that. His come splatters across Shouyou's ass, up until the small of his back. Atsumu raises a tired brow. Wow, that's... sinfully pretty—his come on Shouyou's skin. His cock gives a little twitch.

"Come here," Shouyou tells him, arms open, after rolling onto his back, and like an obedient puppy, Atsumu sinks into his arms, nosing up to Shouyou's neck. Atsumu can feel Shouyou's hair tickling his cheek.

A carefree laugh from Shouyou. And then, "I won't settle for any less than 20,000 yen," Shouyou says into Atsumu's crown.

...shit.

....

Oh. He forgot to buy scissors.

Again.

...

Saturday morning finds him waking up to a delicious scent. Atsumu blinks the sleep away from his eyes. Paws around the bedside table for his phone. And squints at it.

10:30 am.

Urgh, too early. Atsumu plops the pillow over his face. Sleeping over food, his priority.

"Atsumu-san, breakfast~" Shouyou sing-songs into the bedroom.

Atsumu stays still. There's a dip on the bed, followed by a sudden hit of brightness when the pillow is removed from his face. Atsumu wrinkles his nose, only to be greeted with Shouyou's blinding grin.

"Good morning. Breakfast?"

For a moment, Atsumu just stares. Sees the sunlight bathed over the side of Shouyou's profile. The way his hair glows in the morning sunlight. Then sinks his fingers into Shouyou's hair—getting longer now—and pulls Shouyou down to rest his head on Atsumu's chest.

Cheek meshed on Atsumu's left chest, Shouyou blinks up at him. "Food?"

Atsumu shifts Shouyou around so he ends up curled up in Atsumu's arms. He buries his nose in Shouyou's hair, eyes sliding shut. Smells good. He wonders what shampoo does Shouyou use. And twirls the hair on the back of Shouyou's head around his finger.

"Sleep."

Shouyou smothers his grin in Atsumu's collarbone. "Okay."

They stay until Shouyou's stomach growls.

...

"Stop sulkin' in my restaurant. Yer face is already ugly as it is, now it's worse."

That snaps Atsumu's head up from the table. He thumps his hands in protest, "We both have the same face—" only to get a glare from three neighbouring customers behind him.

Hah, pigs, those bitches. It's not like Atsumu never realizes their real intention of coming here regularly. Those annoying squeals whenever 'Samu folds up his sleeves are hints enough. He wants to laugh at them—those pathetic pigs are never good for his twin.

But of course, 'Samu can read him like an open book. "Don't be rude."

Atsumu pouts, nursing the cold green tea, provided by Hana, one of the kitchen crew. Osamu probably knew about those pigs but chose not to do anything about it. Can't fault him, though, they bring money in.

"Seriously, though," Osamu says, whipping something up behind the counter, "I thought ya wanted ta' stay at home today."

"Don't feel like it anymore," Atsumu mutters into his drink.

"Why?"

"Just 'cus."

"Not havin' Shouyou-kun over today?"

Atsumu flinches at that. While his arrangement with Shouyou is no longer a secret to Osamu, that doesn't make it less awkward. Not after Osamu walked in on them.

('Have fun,' 'Samu said and left. The raging libido died down almost immediately, and Shouyou and he settled for Fifa 20 for the rest of the night.)

"Busy." Atsumu bites out.

"Oh?"

"Karasuno reunion."

There's a quiet moment before Osamu breaks it with an amused 'Oh.' Well, shit. Suddenly Atsumu refuses to make eye-contact with his twin, self-conscious. Exposed. Naked under that scrutiny. He scrunches himself up in his seat, wanting to hide.

"They're good friends," Osamu says, with a grin.

"He was Shouyou's setter. Will be again in the Olympics," Atsumu mutters quickly.

"And yer his boyfriend. Also will be his setter in the Olympics."

That has Atsumu startled. He blinks at his twin. Once. Twice. Another, until bewilderment seeps into Osamu's expression, face twisting, and before he can say anything, Osamu beats him into it.

"Yer not?"

Atsumu opens his mouth. Closes it shut, struggling to find the word. He stares at his drink, hard. "Am not—he's not—we're not—"

"Oh wow," Osamu says.

"'Samu, I don't know—"

"Two minced tuna and spring onion onigiris up." A plate of two onigiris is placed in front of him. Hot, fresh and made by Osamu himself, which is guaranteed to be delicious because it's Osamu—

Atsumu forgets what he was going to say.

...

The knock on the door steals Atsumu's attention from the movie. He puts the movie on pause, walking up to the door, scratching his belly. "Wait up."

He pokes his head out, yawning, "Yes—"

"Hey," Shouyou beams, his nose red despite the layers he's wearing, the evidence of the approaching winter.

"Oh, hey." Atsumu blinks, surprised. He hadn't expected to see Shouyou on his doorstep. Not when Shouyou told him that he'd be sleeping over at his senpai's place.

"Bad time?" Shouyou asks, with a smile.

"No, no, of course, no." Atsumu opens the door wider. He lets Shouyou in, confused while Shouyou toes off his shoes. "I thought you'd be busy tonight."

Shouyou struts up to the living room like he owns the place. "Nah. Change of mind."

"Why?"

"Just because." Shouyou shrugs off his jacket, which naturally goes into the laundry basket. He throws himself to the couch, getting comfortable. He resumes the movie. "Oh, movie night? Urgh, One Week Friends? Really?"

Atsumu fits himself into the couch space. Hardly _space_ since he practically sits on Shouyou's lap. Urgh, he's going to need to buy a bigger couch soon. "Hey, no judging. And that's my beer, ass."

Shouyou laughs.

Fourteen-minutes into the movie, Atsumu just realizes how Shouyou feels beneath him, his ear pressed to Shouyou's beating heart, while he fits between Shouyou's thighs, and oh, there are fingers in Atsumu's hair, idly, pleasantly, and that feels good even though his legs are too long and their bodies are too big for the couch.

Oh wow. This—domestic. Oh wow, they're cuddling.

The realization makes Atsumu lifts his eyes, and he can see how the strands of Shouyou's hair growing past his eyes, orange illuminated by blue and white from the screen, and that's beautiful, just like how the light plays across Shouyou's features; the nose, the cheekbone, the lips.

Shouyou turns to him. "What."

Atsumu thinks for a moment. Then, "Why are you here?"

The question is met with rapid blinks. "Just because?"

"I know some of your senpais are staying around here. Or you could've gone home. So, why here?"

"Am I not welcome?"

That takes Atsumu by surprise. What—no, that—unacceptable. Panicked, Atsumu sits to his knees, "No, no. You can come over whenever you want. Fuck, I'll give you the spare keys if you want. It's just—"

Shouyou tips his head. "Just?"

Atsumu looks away. "You could be having fun with your friends out there. With Tobio-kun. Walking down the memory lane or shit like that. Anything other than staying here and watching this stupid movie with me."

Silence. Then Shouyou turns back to the movie. And says, "I'd rather be here with you, though."

A skip. Atsumu's heart, that is. His heart skips a beat. This reason—it can't be. "Why?"

The grin on Shouyou's face is radiant and beautiful. "Do I need a reason to be with the person I like so much?"

Oh, wow. That's a confession, right. That's—

Before he can process anything, Shouyou yanks him down by the collar and kisses him on the lips.

Not long like the one they often show on movies. Just a brief one because Shouyou is a fucking tease, and wants to mock him by saying, "Get it now?" complete with a little peek of his tongue licking up his upper lip and that naughty glint in his eyes.

Okay, Atsumu thinks, with a smirk. Okay, that's it. That's it—

Hand snaking to the small of Shouyou's back, Atsumu swoops down and presses a demanding kiss. The laugh Shouyou breathes against his lips is music to the ear, pleasant and carefree, as light as the tinkling bell.

...

It's one of the rare mornings where he wakes up before Shouyou.

Morning sunshine curls up on the pillow of glowing fiery hair. Shouyou's fiery hair. Like fire. Like the sun. When Atsumu threads his fingers through it, it feels silky smooth.

Shouyou wrinkles his nose. Atsumu kisses the discomfort away. Then he noses down Shouyou's racing pulse, hand slipping down Shouyou's naked bottom. His finger teases around the slick rim.

A sleepy moan escapes Shouyou. Atsumu laughs. "Mornin', sunshine."

Shouyou cracks an eye open. Blinks. Then yawns in Atsumu's face. "Last night not enough for you?"

That evokes sweet memories to Atsumu's front mind. The moans, the nails sinking into his skin, even teeth, everything, no, never enough. Atsumu kisses Shouyou's chest, just below the purple marks.

"Nope."

"Pervert."

"Your pervert."

Shouyou pouts. Gasps out a moan when Atsumu slips his finger in, followed by a kiss on his left nipple. He breathlessly says, "Yeah, okay. My pervert. Make it quick, okay? You promised me to do some haircut today."

"That," Atsumu makes a face, "Do you really have to? I like this."

"A little bit longer and I can't see shit," Shouyou levels him with a look, "Why are you so obsessed with my hair, by the way?"

"Because it's your hair!!!" Atsumu exclaims, "It's pretty and silky and smooth and healthy and so so bright, like the sun or fire and so good for gripping when you take my cock in your mouth—"

"Holy shit, you're really perverted. I demand a full refund—"

**Author's Note:**

> in the end, shouyou went to the saloon to get some haircut because atsumu was a dramatic little shit who refused to trim shouyou's hair
> 
> but yeah, shouyou got his scalp massage and expensive hair treatment because atsumu loved to spoil his boyfriend


End file.
